


A month

by Lupinsfire



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Assassin - Freeform, Ball, F/M, Fancy, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Government, Guns, Love, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Red - Freeform, Sexual Tension, gala - Freeform, kinda ooc mycroft maybe, knifes, sorry I’m bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lupinsfire/pseuds/Lupinsfire
Summary: When Lily white or professionally known as ‘red bird’ was hired to kill Mycroft Holmes. Things don’t go to Lily’s plan and she decides to make Mycroft a deal.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever so please give me advice or any criticism in the comments.   
> I am just doing this for fun and to become better at creative writing.  
> Sorry if it’s bad and I hope as I develop the story my skills will get better.(and I can write longer chapters)   
> Sorry for any mistakes and sorry that it’s short   
> xx

I pull on the expertly picked off the shoulder wine red dress embedded with small glitter pieces that shimmer under the right light. I look at myself in the crooked hotel mirror, my ginger hair in delicate curls falling down my back. I walk over to my suitcase and pull out my dagger of choice and slide it into the small holster on my thigh, I then pull out the file. 

Mycroft Holmes 

Written in bold on the front of the file. Opening it slowly I read

Name: Mycroft Holmes 

Age: 45 

Birthday: November 16th, 1973

Occupation: Government official 

Family: Violet Holmes (mother) 

Siger Holmes (father) 

Sherlock Holmes (brother) 

Eurus Holmes (sister) 

Place of residence: Kensington palace 

Fingers delicately trailing over the words as I read them. 

Readying to leave I do final touch ups on my make up making sure my blood red lipstick is perfect, I look at my figure one last time the dress clinging to my figure. I grab my to-go bag and my clutch with a small hand gun and general “lady things.” Those “lady things” included my burner phone, lipstick, small hand gun, small perfume and lighter. I grab my bags and head to the lobby of the cheap hotel and head to the cab I had called a half an hour earlier. 

“Central London please,” I ask the cab driver with a kind smile.

“No problem miss,” he answers in a gruff voice. 

The drive takes about an hour to get to central London.

“Just here thank you,” I say, and the cab slows to a stop. 

I get out the car and go to to the passenger side door and hand the man a wad of notes.

“Miss this is way too much,” he says trying to hand some back. 

“Don’t tell anyone I was here and keep the extra for your kids,” I say in a deep voice sounding threatening. 

The cab driver nods and drives off. After searching the darkening streets for a while, I find a quiet enough alleyway with no windows facing the alley. I place the to go bag in the skip. I pour the perfume from my clutch all over the bag and take out the lighter. The bag and the contents had to burn. I set it alight. Burning beautifully, the fame lights up my face. The passport I used to get into England, the fake ID, the driver’s license. All evidence of this woman burning in-front of me. Stalking out of the alley I make my way to the event I was attending this evening. Tonight was a quick kill, flirt a little, follow him home then slit his throat and flee the country with a whole different identity.

Slowly walking through the streets of London entering a more posh area, the noise of cars passing and the huddle and bustle of people calms down. Thou houses on the streets go from small shabby flats to huge manor houses. Limos, Lamborghinis, Ferraris and Porsche’s line up outside of one of the big houses telling me I’m at the right place. 

I walk into the gates easily and take in the view of the huge front garden. Flower beds well kept, the bushes trimmed perfectly into circles, a huge stone statue stands in the middle of the garden. The calming noise of water bubbling comes from the fountain disrupts the silence. I make my way to the door and get stopped by a security guard. 

“Name miss,” he says firmly, shoulders tense. 

“Claire Badeaux,” I say back smoothly in a french accent. 

The mans eyes scam the guest list and finds my “name” amongst the lists of others. 

“Thanks miss, you can head in” he says. 

I smile softly at him and walk into the gala. I look around and take on the scenery. 

Huge diamond chandeliers hang from the ceiling, swaying with the breeze coming through the open door. Marble pillars stand tall framing the walls. My heels click on the granite floor as I make my way to the small bar. 

“A glass of Moët rosé imperial please,” I ask the bartender still putting on the french accent. She gives a nod and passes me a flute of the champagne. I give a smile in thanks as the exact man I need sits down two seats away. Mycroft Holmes. The man himself.

“Your finest scotch, in a tumbler if possible,” he asks in the Mycroft Holmes voice. The bartender pours the scotch into a glass and places it onto the bar. He gives a fake smile of thanks directed at the bartender. I look at him from the corner of my eye. 

“Good evening,” I say and turn to him and give a small smile attempting to make small talk and take a sip of my champagne.

“Good evening miss?” He replied.

“Badeaux. Claire Badeaux.” I tell him weather he was asking or not. 

“Mycroft Holmes,” he says, taking a swig of his scotch.

“Oh are you the one that my date told me about? But the seems to have run off somewhere,” I add the second part in a quieter voice looking around the hall. People dancing gracefully to the music and some others just minding their business having idle conversations with each other, no. Doubt a glass of something expensive. After soon these are the countries most important.

“So you’re the one yea? The one with the brilliant mind? He told me you told him what tube he took by the creases in his blazer. Is that true or was he just having me on?” I ask with an admirable look in my eye, placing my hand on my jaw to look as if I was interested in him but also wanting to see the deduction thing in person. I mean , I am observational but not to the extent that he is . Seeing his mind working, I take my hand off my chin and look over my shoulder once more. Seeming as if I can’t see my ‘date’ I give a small bit convincing sigh and take another sip of my champagne.

“So what have you got Mr Holmes?” I ask now giving him my full attention. 


	2. Deducing Mr. Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!!   
> Still learning how to write better   
> Please leave a comment of tips and criticisms   
> Or a kudos of you’d like   
> Xx

His eyes trailed up and down my body. I look into his eyes waiting for the deduction. Of course he wouldn’t get any real information however I wanted to see what he could deduce about Claire Badeaux. I turn up the left side of my mouth as he starts to speak.

“The dress you are wearing tonight is fairly new but not bought for the occasion as it has been in a suitcase for” he paused before continuing.  
“Two days. Judging bay the accent you’re obviously from France , you’ve come to England especially for this gala. I suppose you came here for a date but he’s ditched you and now you can’t find him so you’ve retired to the bar for a drink to calm your nerves of being in such a facility of people with such a high power.” He minimally deduces as I look at him in admiration.  
“That was amazing.” I state. “How do you do it?” I ask pretending to be interested in his deducing abilities.   
“The whole word is full of goldfish.” He spits the last word as of he was repulsed by it, he continues, “you just need to observe instead of see.” I mentally roll my eyes but then ask him.  
“Could I have a go at deducing you , Mr. Holmes?” I added a kind smirk at the end.   
“Go ahead Miss Badeaux” he insists.

“Umm well... you’re wearing a very expensive suit” I start, “You are carrying an umbrella. And you have very shiny shoes , you are also enjoying the scotch you are drinking” I giggle at the end. I look at you and see the disapproving look on his face.   
“eh bien, c'est embarrassant.” I mutter in french convincing him even more that I’m from France therefore deepening my persona. I look down at my feet to look away from him and take a bigger sip of my champagne. I see his prideful smirk through my hair and look back up at him. I put my face in my hands to hide my ‘embarrassment’ when really I got quite a lot from my ‘deductions’.   
“Sorry , that was a pathetic try” I murmur and bring my eyes back to yours and blush.  
“Yes. Yes it was” he agrees.   
“You know what Mr. Holmes, you’re not as bad as people say you are” I flash my teeth at him and stand up from the bar grabbing my drink.   
“Goodbye for now , Mr. Holmes.” I sway my hips slightly as I walk away to go mingle with the other people at the party.

I sleekly make my way around the ballroom trying to find a conversation to put myself in. I find a group of politicians most likely and I walk up to them.  
“Excuse me? Do you know where James Reilly is? He’s my date and he seems have disappeared.” I say   
“No, sorry. Who is that ?” Different variations of this echo around the group.   
“Oh no, it’s ok. Umm do you mind if I wait here? he might turn up soon” I ask innocently and turn up the corners of my mouth. The group nods.   
“Thank you. Thank you.” I say gratefully and just mingle for a while and scan the room once more. Many important people are talking around the room , my eyes float over to the prime minister in the centre of the room talking to someone highly involved with the royals but I can’t remember his name. I squint slightly and try to read their lips but I’m too far away to see what they’re talking about, it looks like greeting and idle chat. Flitting my eyes away from them for a couple of seconds and back to the group I’m standing in I giggle along to a bad joke one of the men in the group made, pulling my attention away from the group again. Bringing my eyes back to the prime minister and see him walk up to the prime minister and shake his hand greeting him. 

From across the room I catch your eyes and flash you a smile and look back to the group.   
“I think I see my date over by the bar, I’m going to head off over there. Thanks for keeping me company.” Swaying my hips slightly to get some attention, I head back to the bar and ask to get more champagne as I sit back down at the end of the bar. After being sat at the bar bored for a while, I start a conversation with the bartender.   
“Slow night ?” I ask the bartender that poured me a second flute of champagne.   
“Yea, not a lot of these rich people want to get drunk at these things.” He says. I giggle sweetly.  
“Well my date has seemed to disappear, and now I’m left all alone in a room full of big powerful people.” I roll my eyes and give an exasperated sigh. I carry on.  
“But you know that Mycroft Holmes , proper fitty.” I tilt my head and nod my head towards him still talking to the prime minister about something.   
“He’s apparently like really powerful, reckon he’d go for me?” I turn my head to him again and glance back to the bar tender.  
“I think he’d be stupid not to miss” he says. I fake a blush and look down.   
“Oh thank you. You accept tips ?” I ask smiling softly.  
“No sorry miss.” He says. I make a small tutting noise.  
“Well that’s disappointing.” I state “well I better be off and do party things, mingle with the rich and pretend to know what I’m doing.” I laugh and stand up and take my drink with me. “Thanks for your time sir.” I saunter away from the table. 

I find my way to a small hallway and stand in it finding the situation stressful not knowing how to get close to my target. While deducing him I got that he was a very cold and closed off person, and that he has a very very high position in the British government. Also that your umbrella that you carry has a sword and a gun in. However none of this information helps me get close enough to you and get you alone to kill you. Fuck. This is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought. Maybe I’ll have to play the long game. Finally, I bring myself out of my thoughts and look around. The hallway was lined with red carpet and diamond chandeliers lighting up the hall. I smooth down my dress and compose myself to enter the room again and clear my throat so my french accent is as clear as possible. My heels click on the floor as I walk back into the room and find a new group to mingle with when I catch sight of the back garden.


End file.
